


i've got you in the end i wish i had you from the start

by bastigod



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anthology, Individual Chapter Tags and Warnings in Notes, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25931581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastigod/pseuds/bastigod
Summary: an anthology collection of short sunaosa one-shots
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 55
Kudos: 374
Collections: OsaSuna Week 2020, SunaOsa





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> title from strawberries by caamp
> 
> all chapters in this fic are stand alone works and scenes.
> 
> all chapters are G or T rated. any implied sexual or mature themes will be appropriately tagged in the chapter notes.
> 
> this fic is marked as completed as each work is a complete narrative, but new oneshots may be added at any time.

**Chapter 1 - Table of Contents**

**Chapter 2** \- **the first day of the rest of their lives**

> **Tags/Content Warnings - >** Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, High School, CW: Underage Drinking, CW: Mention of Internal Organs  
>   
>  **Summary - >** _“I’m just wond’rin’ if I’m ever gonna see ya again.”_ Osamu and Rintarou, the night before graduation
> 
> **Word Count - >** 1.3k

**Chapter 3** \- **marine world**

> **Tags/Content Warnings** -> Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Timeskip, Post-Timeskip, CW: Sea Creatures, CW: Brief Alcohol Mention, Ginjima Hitoshi, Komori Motoya, Washio Tatsuki (cameo)
> 
> **Summary - >** _Osamu moved through the aquarium the same way he moved through much of life: slow, observant and filled with quiet reverence. Or… perhaps just quiet hunger._
> 
> **Word Count - >** 1.1k

**Chapter 4** \- **soulmates**

> **Tags/Content Warnings** -> Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Timeskip, Not a Soulmate AU
> 
> **Summary - >** " _Do you believe in soulmates?"_
> 
> **Word Count - >** 1k

**Chapter 5** \- **study session**

> **Tags/Content Warnings** -> Pre-Relationship, Kissing Practice, High School, Mention of Atsukita
> 
> **Summary - > ** _“A kiss is a kiss.” “No way! There’s a difference.”_
> 
> **Word Count - > **800

**Chapter 6** \- **lacquer**

> **Tags/Content Warnings** -> Pining, Best Friends, High School, CW: Mention of Underage Drinking
> 
> **Summary - > ** _“I didn’t know ya painted yer nails.”_
> 
> **Word Count - > **1.7k

**Chapter 7** \- **shin-osaka station**

> **Tags/Content Warnings** -> Established Relationship, Post-Timeskip, Fluff, CW: Weapon Mention (Metaphor)
> 
> **Summary - > ** _“Just wish the best for you didn’t mean leavin’ me.”_
> 
> **Word Count - > **700

**Chapter 8** \- **the baker**

> **Tags/Content Warnings** -> Alternate Universe: Fantasy, First Meetings, Amanai Kanoka
> 
> **Summary - > ** _ He was struck with something peculiar — the sweet smell of sticky sugar, freshly ground cinnamon and warm pastry. _
> 
> **Word Count - > **1.2k


	2. the first day of the rest of their lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “I’m just wond’rin’ if I’m ever gonna see ya again.”
> 
> Osamu and Rintarou, the night before graduation 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, High School, CW: Underage Drinking, CW: Mention of Internal Organs_
> 
> Inspired by twitter drabble prompts from two separate prompt lists: _green wine bottles_ & _never, never come back_

“Oi, Osamu. Don’t be so stingy.”

Osamu’s elbowed in the ribs at full force, courtesy of his shithead best friend sitting next to him. Daydreaming was so much easier before Rin crash landed into his life three years ago. With a groan and an eye roll, he passed over the bottle of inky red wine — some Australian vintage Rin pilfered from his sister’s liquor cabinet. 

“Yer gonna gimme a bruise one of these days.” Osamu pulled up the hemline of his shirt for dramatic effect.

Rin laughed. “I already have.” He dug a pair of fingers into the waistband of Osamu’s sweatpants and pulled just far enough to expose the splatter of color on his hip bone. The afterimage of block after block, bumping into Rin as they jump for a shutout. There was certainly an identical twin blooming beneath Rin’s skin.

Osamu’s last volleyball bruise, gradually fading into pinks and greens and yellows. He didn’t regret his decision to quit after Spring Nationals ended. He had other regrets to worry about.

“‘Samu, what’re you thinking about?” Osamu didn’t bother brushing the question off. After this long Rin knew all of his tells — the crinkle of his nose, the furrow of his brows, the droop of his eyes.

The bottle of wine is passed back into his palm. He took a long swig before setting it on the floor of Rin’s living room. “I’m just wond’rin’ if I’m ever gonna see ya again.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not moving to fucking Jupiter.” Rin wore an easy smile, eyes crinkled in good humor. “Off-season. EJP vs Jackals games. You’ll see me all the time.”

“No.” Osamu stared at the bottle, picking at the corner of the wine’s fancy label with his fingernail.

“No?”

“No.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Rin’s easy smile morphed into a frown. 

Osamu’s nail found purchase, leaving a long, shredded gouge in the label. “All those times seein’ ya. It’s not gonna be you. It’s gonna be Suna.”

“Did your idiot brother give you another concussion?” In the corner of Osamu’s eye, he saw Rin’s brows raise, voice lilting incredulously. “I’m Suna.”

“No yer not.” Osamu tucked his knees close to his chest and settled his head on his folded arms. “Yer Rin.”

Rin said nothing. His shoulder brushed Osamu’s as he tilted his head back against the couch cushion. Just as Rin knew his tells, Osamu knew Rin’s. _I’ll wait._ He’ll wait. For Osamu to work through the cataracts plaguing his thoughts. To find the words he needed.

“This.” Osamu said, leaning back until he was face to face with Rin. “Seein’ ya like this. Relaxed. With not a care in the whole goddamn world. Just you ‘n’ me.”

A smile graced Rin’s lips as he turned his head, close enough that Osamu felt a breathy laugh on his cheeks. “If you keep saying shit like that I’m gonna jump to conclusions.”

It’s these tiny moments where he is _Rin._ Keen green eyes, crinkled at the corner and laden with a healthy dose of sinister. Hair mussed up, strands brushing against his nose and sticking to the corner of his balmed lips. Drowning in his oversized Inarizaki hoodie — as blood red as the wine they sip.

Nothing like _Suna_ , the soon-to-be former Inarizaki middle blocker. _Suna,_ who pulled on his brand-new white and blue track jacket, pointing at his family name lettered across the back. _Suna,_ who wrapped his arm around Gin’s shoulders, laughing that he’d never get involved in the twins’ nonsense. _Suna,_ who wore a mask around everyone they knew — hiding his emotions behind nonchalance and tired eyes. 

“What conclusions are those?” Osamu asked, syllables nothing more than exhales. 

Rin bit his lower lip — another tell. _I want to lie,_ it said. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Rin.” Osamu leaned closer, the tips of their noses nearly brushing. He reached over and flicked Rin on the forehead, his friend’s face scrunching up in faux pain. “Yer stupid. Just tell me.”

Rin opened his mouth to say something, tongue flicking over his teeth as he hesitated. “That that was a confession. That you wanna be with me.” He held his gaze steady on Osamu’s. “But I know that can’t possibly be true.”

Osamu played a video game once where one of the characters could phase his hand through someone’s body and crush their heart in the process. Surely Rin had his fingertips phased through Osamu’s skin, hooking around his sternum, prodding at his aorta. 

_I do. It’s true._ The thought dies in the back of his throat.

Rin’s irises flicked across Osamu’s face from his chin to his mouth to his hair. His eyes narrowed as they stilled, a tiny crease forming between his brows. “Wait. Do you?”

And those fingers plunge into his chest cavity, gripping the ventricles with black painted nails. Osamu thought he was done for, succumbing to Rin’s bluff. But then a faint smile spread across familiar pink lips. Osamu swallowed as Rin spoke. “You know, it’s okay if you do.”

“What?” Osamu offered, voice shaking. “Does that mean…?”

Rin leaned forward to grab the bottle of wine and took a hearty swig of it, a tiny dribble snaking from the corner of his lips. He set it back down, the thick glass echoing a resounding thump against the floor. With a swish of his bangs, he faced Osamu again, fire burning in gold-green eyes. There was a flush high on his cheeks, alcohol finally sending his low tolerance into overdrive.

“Yeah.” His eyes drifted to Osamu’s lips then snapped back up. “But it’s not a big deal… if you don’t… or if you… don’t want to be friends with me anymore because I’m—”

“Rin.” Osamu spoke, head still leaning against the couch, a twinge of a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. “Are ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” A little louder and more forceful than he intended. Rin flinched. “Wait, that’s not what I meant.”

Rin’s face morphed into his defensive mask — _Suna_ staring back at him nonchalant as if he hadn’t just revealed his deepest secret. Osamu grasped at Rin’s hand, clasping his fingers around a large palm and pressing against familiar grooves. After all, this was hardly the first time they’d held hands. For warmth in the dead of winter. For comfort after nasty fights with Atsumu. For safety in a thick throng of people. 

But this wasn’t for warmth, or comfort, or safety.

Osamu exhaled and leaned forwards. He swiped his thumb along the corner of Rin’s mouth and chin, wiping away the dribble of Syrah. Rin merely stared — eyes wider than he’d ever seen them — as Osamu brought it to his mouth and tasted the wine. Tart and fruity, with traces of wood smoke.

“I like ya too, Rin.” Osamu desperately wanted to look away but his gaze remained steady. No tells, no tricks, just the truth.

The facade of _Suna_ melted away, a shithead smile gracing Rin’s lips. “Good.”

“And I wanna see _you_ as often as I can. _Rin_.” 

Rin laughed, warm and breathy. “You’re a fucking sap.” He reached for Osamu’s hand and brought it back up to his mouth. He pressed tender kisses to Osamu’s fingers, eyes fluttering as lips met knuckles. Soft smudges of lip balm gliding over skin. “It’s not gonna be easy, you know?”

_Distance._

Makes the heart grow fonder but makes resentment all the more bitter.

Osamu felt himself be drawn into the sight of Rin’s mouth. Thoughts of the apple and vanilla smeared on those lips mixed with the flavor of wine. “I’ll take the train. E’ry weekend.”

“Pricy.” Rin whispered, lashes cast over cheeks. “Sure you’ll be able to afford it, college boy?”

“Yer worth it.” Osamu spoke before finally, finally, crossing that distance.

_Finally._


	3. marine world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Osamu moved through the aquarium the same way he moved through much of life: slow, observant and filled with quiet reverence. Or… perhaps just quiet hunger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Timeskip, Post-Timeskip, CW: Sea Creatures, CW: Brief Alcohol Mention, Ginjima Hitoshi, Komori Motoya, Washio Tatsuki (cameo)_
> 
> Originally a twitfic written for OsaSuna Week 2020. Prompt Past/Future. Minor edits.

Osamu’s eyes were wide as he watched the yellowtails swirl around the tank. 

They’d been at the aquarium for several hours now, much longer than Suna had originally anticipated. Osamu moved through the aquarium the same way he moved through much of life: slow, observant, filled with quiet reverence or… perhaps just quiet hunger.

Suna — eager to see everything before Marine World closed — had had to slow down his borderline speedwalking countless times. He’d spin around on his heel to find Osamu had lagged far behind. Staring at a massive moray eel curling around corals. Grinning at a seal playfully swimming close to the glass. Lingering at the touch tanks, letting sea rays and moon jellies glide against his fingertips.

Every time he backtracked to where Osamu loitered, he’d flash Suna a tiny smile. Barely visible in the low light, illuminated only by the brilliant blue shining through the tanks.

That tiny smile was Suna’s favorite part of the entire aquarium, hands down.

But as they wandered, a single question kept bouncing around Suna’s brain.

Yesterday had been the second years’ turn to clean up after practice. It was always a bit pointless because Kita-san typically redid all their hard work anyway. But they also never wanted to risk his deer in the headlights thousand eye stare of disappointment.

Atsumu and Kosaku had long since disappeared after hurling the balls back into the carts, eager to get out of doing any actual work. Osamu and Gin sat on either side of him as they folded freshly washed pinnies.

“Yo, Sunarin.” Osamu had his tongue poked out in concentration as he worked, careful to get the fold right the first time. “Wanna go to Marine World tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” Suna mumbled.

Next to him, Gin perked up, grinning from ear to ear. He planted his head on Suna’s shoulder, eyes gleaming in puppy dog excitement. “Oh! Can I come?”

“No. It’s for a school project.”

“Damn.” Gin immediately deflated. “Y’all always get the coolest projects.”

“You said we had a project?” Suna later asked, during the hour-long bus ride up to the aquarium that morning, bumping his shoulder into the dozing Osamu. “I don’t remember sensei saying so.”

Osamu replied, mid-yawn. “I lied.”

“Why?”

Osamu shrugged. “If Gin came then Kosaku would and if Atsumu caught wind we were all doin’ somethin’ without him he’d force his way along too.”

“Harsh.” Suna laughed.

“They’re all so noisy. Love ‘em all to death but…” Osamu’s nose scrunched in disgust at his own words of affirmation about their obnoxious friends. “Sometimes ya just wanna have a chill day.”

Osamu nestled up against Suna’s shoulder, already dozing off.

“Understandable.” Suna said that morning.

Now he’s not so sure he understands anymore.

Before them, the yellowtail continued to swirl around in the circular tank. The lights of the screens beyond illuminated their silver scales in all shades of the rainbow.

“Osamu.” Suna spoke, turning to face his friend. Osamu’s gaze remained transfixed ahead, oblivious to anything but the fish. Suna repeated himself.

“Hm?”

“Is this a date?”

“What?” Osamu said, eyes still locked ahead. A tiny half-smile formed on his profile. “No. Of course not. Don’t be stupid.” His voice lilted at the end, its nervousness clear to Suna.

“Okay.” 

Then, a side glance — so fast Suna almost missed it. It was just a quick flick of a grey iris to the corner of his eye socket before immediately snapping forward again. Osamu didn’t even turn his head.

Trying to gauge Suna’s reaction. That much was clear.

“Unless…” Finally, Osamu turned to face Suna. “Ya want it to be.” If there was any trace of flush on his cheeks, it was lost to the pitch-black room and the iridescent flashing lights.

“God… and they call you the smart twin.” Suna laughed. “I knew you were stupid but not this stupid.”

“Hey!” Osamu protested, taking a swipe at Suna’s shoulder.

Suna was too quick, snatching Osamu’s wrist. “Look. If you wanted this to be a date, you should’ve just asked.” He grinned. “Stop trying to dance around you fucking neanderthal.”

“Yer so rude.” 

“Hey, I only call ‘em as I see ‘em.” Suna said, letting his grip on Osamu’s wrist go slack.

“Why do I even like ya?” Osamu muttered to himself, sliding his hand down until it was flush to Suna’s palm.

“Beats me.”

Fingers entwined. Or well, they certainly tried. Suna was off by a finger, two of Osamu’s slid into the same groove.

A quiet, shared laugh.

They adjust. Perfect.

With his other hand, Suna cupped Osamu’s jaw. Marveling at the rainbow of lights reflecting off grey eyes. “Hey… Osamu?”

Osamu leaned into the touch, a soft smile stretching across his lips. “Yes?”

Suna grinned as he lilted songbird sweet. “Isn’t there something you’re supposed to ask me?”

A groan. A roll of eyes. But Osamu hardly let the soft smile on his lips falter. “Sunarin, do ya wanna go on a date wit’ me?”

“Sure. When and where?”

“Kinosaki Marine World.” Osamu stole a quick glance at the watch on Suna’s wrist. “In five minutes.”

Suna faux pouted. “I have to wait that long?”

“I… I gotta take a piss… also, I wanted to grab a snack.” Osamu looked away and laughed. “This is extremely unromantic.”

“You’re a fucking Miya.” Suna swiped his thumb over Osamu’s cheekbone. “I knew what I was getting into.”

“Now…” Suna continued, gently squeezing the hand in his grip. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and while you’re in there I’ll get you a taiyaki?”

“Well… I kinda wanted shirasu…”

“Osamu… If you have any intention of kissing me in the next six hours, you are absolutely not eating shirasu.”

Osamu’s eyes grew wide. The flush on his cheeks finally so brilliantly bright Suna could see it through the low light. “You… I…” He nodded. “Understood.”

“Good boy.” Suna patted him on the cheek twice before letting his hand drop. He smiled as he pulled Osamu towards the exit. “Let’s get going.”

* * *

Komori’s head hit the izakaya table with a soft slump, beer glasses and silverware clinking. “Are you kidding me, _really?_ ” He groaned, overdramatic as always.

Suna shrugged as Washio chuckled. “Hey you’re the one who asked.”

“You two have been dating longer than anyone I know…” Komori — face still firmly planted against the table — gesticulated every word with his hands. “And your getting together story is legit just… _Oh, we were already on a date. It’s just that neither of us realized_ … I hate you guys.”

Suna felt a knee dig into his thigh under the table. “Really not sure what you expected.”

He met Osamu’s eye and found himself face to face with a fond gaze paired with a sweet smile. Identical to the one he fell stupidly in love with all those years ago.

He’s seen hundreds of those smiles since then.

But luckily, some things never get old.


	4. soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “Do you believe in soulmates?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Timeskip, Not a Soulmate AU_
> 
> Originally a twitfic written for OsaSuna Week 2020. Prompt Midnight/Secrets. Minor edits.

“Hey, are you awake?”

A gentle voice woke Osamu up from his slumber. He blinked, trying to make sense of the shadowy figure crouching in front of his futon.

“S...Suna?”

“Shh…” A finger met his lips. “Don’t wanna wake Kita.”

“Whad’ya wan’?” Osamu whispered, accent thick from exhaustion.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“So yer jus’ gonna make me suffer too?”

There was a breathy laugh, warm on his cheeks. “Of course I am. Go for a walk with me?”

Osamu’s eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see Suna fully dressed. “I guess.”

* * *

The streets outside the training camp house were silent, the town long-since gone to bed. Osamu kicked at dead leaves as they strolled, relishing in the crunch. “Are we s’posed t’be out this late?”

He could only imagine the rage on Kurosu’s face if he knew they weren’t safely tucked into their futons.

He didn’t care to imagine what Kita’s expression would be.

“Probably not, but when have you ever followed the rules?” Suna grinned, all razor teeth and fox eyes.

“Shithead.” Osamu grumbled into his jacket, suppressing a shiver from the icy late autumn air.

“Hey.” Suna suddenly stopped. “Part of the reason I dragged you out here is... I had a question for you.” Osamu rotated to meet an earnest gold-green gaze. “It’s stupid, but…”

Osamu shrugged. “‘Tsumu is stupid incarnate. Do yer worse. I’ve heard dumber.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

“Soulmates?” Osamu’s brows furrowed. Where did this come from?

“Yeah. Like in the dramas.” Suna shoved his hands in his pockets, nestling further into his scarf. “My sis watched one the other night where the main character had a magical tattoo on her wrist. It was supposed to say the first words her soulmate would eventually tell her. Stuff like that.”

“Well, tha’s a loada bullshit.”

“No shit, idiot.” Suna elbowed him in the ribs, cushioned by his puffy jacket. “I just mean like… the concept in general?”

“Dunno. I guess at first thought it’s kinda… nice. The universe decidin’ there’s somebody just for ya out there.” Osamu paused, stealing a moment to admire the inky black post-midnight sky.

“But?”

“But tha’s the same reason it’s kinda shitty, right? Imagine fallin’ in love with somebody just for some otherworldly bullshit to tell ya ‘No, that ain’t yer soulmate.’”

Suna laughed, hazy and soft like the night itself. “I didn’t expect that out of you.”

“Why? ‘Cause soulmates are easy? Ya find one another and then yer set for life?” Osamu hummed, mulling over his thoughts for a brief moment before grinning. “Where’s the fun in that? Love’s meant to be a challenge. No shortcuts. No otherworldly bullshit. The universe doesn’t get t’make my decisions for me.”

“You’re a modern-day Socrates, truly.” Suna snickered.

“And yer a pain in my ass. I can’t stand ya.”

“Aww. Don’t be like that. What would you do without me?”

“Sleep.” He yawned for dramatic effect.

“Poor baby.” Suna pouted, pantomiming tears with his fingers. He chuckled before finally relenting. “Fine, we can head back.”

“Hey… Suna? Why didja ask?” Osamu said as they started their trek back to the house.

“It’s just something I’ve been thinking about. Wanted to hear someone else’s opinion.”

“And what exactly is yer opinion?”

Suna grinned. “Well, I’m gonna look like a fool after your answer.”

“Have ya looked in a mirror lately? Yer gonna look like a fool no matter what ya say.” Osamu laughed as he narrowly dodged a shoulder check.

Suna’s grin faded to a smile. Gentler. Safer. “Well. I think it’s a nice idea. I agree with you that choice is important. But…” He stared at the sidewalk, fingers fiddling at his jacket zipper. “I guess it’d just be nice to have some kinda sign from the universe telling you that choice was the correct one.”

“Knowin’ the person ya like likes ya back.”

“Exactly. You can bypass all the nonsense and go straight to the shit that truly matters. Making them feel… I dunno… loved.”

“Damn, never took ya for a romantic.”

“Shut up.” Suna’s cheeks flushed, faint in the moonlight.

“So… who is it?”

“An insufferable moron who is an utter plague on my entire existence.”

“Damn, ya like ‘Tsumu?” Osamu laughed. “I feel sorry for ya.”

Suna rolled his eyes, smile dripping with annoyance. “Wrong, but you’re close. Think quieter, arguably stupider.”

“Is it… Oh.”

_It’s me._

Osamu went silent, letting his thoughts bang against the bars of their cage before verbalizing them. _Suna likes me. It’s me. He likes me._ They stop at the curb, pedestrian light glowing red despite the near-empty late night streets.

“Are you gonna say anything?”

“I… er…” Words continued to fail him.

“Forget about it.” Suna huffed, storming off ahead into the crosswalk. Osamu caught him by the jacket sleeve.

“Rin.”

Suna’s eyes flick to meet his, anger visibly melting away at the nickname.

“Why don’t we jus’...” Osamu smiled. “Bypass all the nonsense?”

* * *

Suna opened the front door to the training camp house, gesturing for Osamu to enter first. No one greeted them, to their relief.

“Y’know, Rin, maybe there is such a thing as soulmates.”

Suna slipped his fingers between Osamu’s, squeezing tightly. “Dare I ask?”

“Ya should.”

“Fine. Why?”

“T’night I followed my red string of fate.” Osamu poked his pinkie in Suna’s direction. “‘N’ it led me here…”

Pink bloomed on sharp cheekbones, illuminated by the genkan’s light. Osamu stepped farther into the house, pulling Suna along with him.

“Where I found what was most important t’me…”

Osamu’s soft smile morphed into a wicked fox grin. A smile more his brother’s than his own, but he was still a Miya after all.

“My beloved… futon. G’night Rin.” He winked as he slowly slid open the shoji door to the makeshift bedroom.

He huffed out a quiet laugh at Suna’s outraged expression.

“I despise you.” Suna bit out, half-hearted. 

Osamu gently planted a kiss on the back of Suna’s hand, squeezing their entwined fingers.

Suna’s eyebrow cocked. A silent challenge. _You’re just gonna kiss my hand?_

A step closer. Lips parted. Faces flushed.

“I despise ya, too.”


	5. study session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “A kiss is a kiss.” 
>> 
>> “No way! There’s a difference.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Pre-Relationship, Kissing Practice, High School, Mention of Atsukita_
> 
> Originally a twitfic written for OsaSuna Week 2020. Prompt First/Touch. Minor edits.

Osamu yawned, the first of many signs that their study session was about to go from unproductive to utterly useless.

“Osamu.” Suna tapped his pencil against the kotatsu. “Stay focused.”

He groaned loudly. “Mmmmhhg, I donwanna.”

“If you fail your English exam, don’t you dare blame it on me.”

“Shuddup.” Osamu pillowed his head down on his folded arms. “‘M jus’ gonna take a five minute catnap.”

Suna set the pencil down and ripped a piece of paper from his notebook, careful to not make a single sound. He quickly crafted it into a paper football and flicked it at the already snoring Osamu. It embedded itself into grown out two-toned roots.

“Leave me alone.” Osamu waved his hand over the crown of his head several times before finally knocking the paper football out of his hair.

“You’re gonna fall asleep for real, aho.” Suna said, nudging Osamu’s knee with his socked foot.

Osamu’s head lifted, nose scrunched. “‘Aho’? Yer becomin’ one of us aren’tcha city boy?” He grinned.

“Apparently it’s the only way to make your dumb ass listen.”

“Fine. No sleepin’.” Osamu pushed himself up. “I am gettin’ some snacks, though.”

“Oh? Grab me some calbee chips.” Suna smiled sweetly, though that rarely ever won him any favors.

“Be nice t’me first.”

Suna scowled. “I’d rather starve.”

Osamu playfully kicked at Suna as he walked by, nearly tumbling to the floor when Suna snatched his ankle.

He reappeared several minutes later, arms laden with more snacks and drinks than the two of them could feasibly consume. Suna smiled to himself when a bag of calbee chips was deposited directly into his lap. A can of coffee was slid in his direction and cracked open with a satisfying hiss.

“Why don’t we play a game?” Suna said after taking a sip, already feeling the caffeine rush through his bloodstream. 

“A ghehm?” Osamu tilted his head like a dog, mouth stuffed full of rice crackers.

“Yeah. A question game.”

Osamu swallowed. “What’s the catch? There’s always a catch wit’ ya.”

“We can ask the other person any question we want. Buuut…” Suna took a bite out of a seaweed and salt chip Light Yagami style. Purely for the drama of it all. “It must be asked and answered in English.”

Osamu frowned. “Can I use my translator app?”

Suna clicked his tongue. “Only for vocab. Not sentence structure.”

Generic questions came first, ones they both knew the answers to. ‘Do you have siblings?’ _Yes, an older sister. Yes, I have a twin brother._ ‘What’s your favorite color?’ _Green. Purple._ ‘Do you play sports?’ _Yes, volleyball. Yes, volleyball._

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Osamu asked, tapping his pencil against his notebook.

Suna chuckled. “No. I am too busy.”

“Yer turn.”

Suna typed a few words into his translator app before asking, “Have you ever kissed someone?”

“Yes, I have.”

Suna’s eyebrows raised. “Really? Who?”

“My parents. ‘Tsumu. Grandma.” Osamu counted off on his fingers, tongue poking out as he thought. He switched back to Japanese to say, “On the cheek of this one girl at camp.”

Suna laughed until he felt like his sides were going to split. “Those don’t count!”

“A kiss is a kiss.”

“No way! There’s a difference.”

Osamu frowned. “Don’t remember ya gettin’ a degree in fuckin’ kissology. Fine, what’s the difference?”

Suna cocked his head. “Hmm. It’d be easier to demonstrate.”

“If I wanted to watch a lonely moron kiss his hand, I’d just hafta watch ‘Tsumu go at it with his ‘Ki-Te-san.’”

“Wh...what.” Suna nearly dropped his can of coffee. “Please tell me that’s a joke.”

“I’m kiddin’.”

“Well.” Suna shifted his position, from sitting cross-legged to kneeling on his shins. “I could demonstrate with my hand but… wouldn’t it be better with a… willing target instead?”

“O-oh.” Osamu’s cheeks bloomed scarlet. “I s’pose.”

Suna leaned forward over the kotatsu, closing the gap between them. He met Osamu’s lips with the softest of chaste touches. A single press. Then he immediately pulled back. Storm grey eyes fluttered open.

“That was a kiss.”

Osamu let out a long exhale, flush spreading to his ears. “Okay. Got it.” He whispered.

Suna leaned in again. “And this…”

His lips meet Osamu’s again, this time at an angle. Tongue brushed against lip, asking for silent permission to enter.

It’s granted, mouths slotting together. Then, a burst of seaweed and salt, soy sauce and rice crackers. 

Warmth. Warm mouths entwined. Warm cheeks caressed. Warm ribcages beating.

Suna pulled back, saliva stretching from his to Osamu’s lips as he retreated. “... is a _kiss_.”

Osamu met Suna’s gaze. “I don’t think I understood the difference.” He smiled, eyes curving into mischievous crescent moons.

“Need another demonstration?”

“Perhaps.” He whispered as Suna’s teeth met his bottom lip and long fingers sank into two-tone locks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idea was inspired by a Korean comic by @02_hq_ which has sadly been deleted. It was about the difference between 뽀뽀 and 키스 with Suna demonstrating the difference.
> 
> Hand in Japanese is ‘Te’ so it’s a play on words of Kita’s name. Whether Osamu is actually kidding is up to you LOL.


	6. lacquer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “I didn’t know ya painted yer nails.” Osamu watches the careful movements. It’s amazing how steady Suna’s hands were, even his left hand painted on the polish without a single tremble.
>> 
>> “Well, it’s not like I can have it on at school.” Suna murmurs, finishing up his right pinky finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Pining, Best Friends, High School, CW: Mention of Underage Drinking_

He finds himself in a lucid state of existence. Somewhere trapped between awake and asleep, conscious and unconscious.

_Osamu._

He sees Suna in his dream. All tall, pointy angles standing with one hand on his hip. Brown hair sticking haphazardly like he'd just climbed out of bed.

Osamu groans, flopping onto his back. He reaches out as far as he can, stretching to try and find Suna's body. _Oh, he's gone._

His eyes snap open, coming face to face with Suna's poster-covered ceiling. Western bands he'd never heard of at worst or knew one song at best. 

"Suna." He tries, hoping he's in the room. "Suuuuna. Suuuu-naaaaa-riiiiiin."

His nose is suddenly overtaken by a pungent, sickly-sweet smell reminiscent of alcohol. He knew Suna-Neesan was lax about the whole underage drinking thing provided they did it at home, but it couldn't be any later than 9 AM.

_It's five o'clock somewhere,_ the voice in his head uselessly provided.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here."

Osamu shifts in the bed and tilts his head to see Suna sitting on the floor, facing away from him.

"What're ya doin' down there? Come back to bed." Osamu groans.

“Busy.” Suna mumbles.

“Suuuuuunaaa.” Osamu dangles off the bed, fingers brushing the floor. 

“You’re so annoying.” Suna laughs, no venomous bite to his jibes. “Get a girlfriend already and leave me alone.”

“But yer so waaaarm.”

Suna remains silent, focused on the task in front of him. Finally, he raises his hands, wiggling his fingers to show off the lacquer coating his nails. “How’s it look?”

Osamu crawls out of bed, wheelbarrow walking until his legs slipped out of the fluffy white comforter and onto the floor. 

He grasps one of Suna’s hands in both of his, fingers running over fingers as he examines the nail polish. Though they looked black from a distance, Suna’s nails were a dark blue. Navy? Royal? Osamu was never too sure about things like that. “Blue suits ya.” Suna’s ring fingernails had something speckled swiped over it, glittering in silver and every shade of the rainbow all at once. “What’s this?”

Suna lifts the bottle in his free hand — filled with a silvery and rainbow liquid — and recites the English words. “Holographic top coat.”

“Ya should put it on all yer nails.” Osamu lets go of Suna’s hand. “It’ll be prettier.”

Suna nods, unscrewing the black cap. He wipes off the excess on the opening of the bottle and streaks the glittery lacquer over his other nails.

“I didn’t know ya painted yer nails.” Osamu watches the careful movements. It’s amazing how steady Suna’s hands were, even his left hand painted on the polish without a single tremble.

“Well, it’s not like I can have it on at school.” Suna murmurs, finishing up his right pinky finger. “I usually can only do it over summer break. Or long weekends. And…”

They weren’t this close last summer. Their first year they were in different classes — Osamu and Kosaku together, Gin and Suna together — and Suna wasn’t a starter yet. It wasn’t until Suna ended up in his class that they finally became friends. Lunchtime shared led to bentos shared to konbini snacks shared to home cooked meals shared.

To beds shared. Arms tucked close to chests and foreheads pressed against shoulder blades. Osamu was aware they were more intimate than most friends were, but it wasn’t a big deal. Neither of them were bothered by it, so who cares?

“I don’t mean t’ be rude or anythin’...” Osamu starts.

“That’s a first.” Suna grins. He’d get a shoulder check for that under ordinary circumstances, but Osamu was still transfixed by the clear polish Suna swiped over his nails.

“Boys don’t usually paint their nails.” Osamu says, immediately realizing how judgmental that sounds. And it’s also not like most boys religiously bleached, toned, and dyed their hair grey on the regular either. “Wait… I just mean… how’d ya get into it?”

“Neesan has a big collection of polish in her office. She runs a blog about it.” Suna nibbles his lip as he finishes up the clear polish. One swipe along the tip, then two broad swipes over the nail itself. “She caught me staring at all of them one day and offered to paint mine for me. After that, she taught me how to do it myself. It’s relaxing.” He blows on them slightly. 

“It suits ya a lot.” Osamu says, glancing down at the mish-mash of bottles on the floor in front of them. Inky blacks. Stormy greys. Vibrant purples. Forest greens. Sky blues. Clear polish that he was sure had a purpose. “It’s good yer sister is cool wit’ shit like that.”

“My parents would lose their marbles if they knew, but it’s not like they get any say in my life anymore.” Suna laughs. “Neesan doesn’t care. She thinks everyone should just be themselves.”

“Hey, Sunarin.” Osamu bumps him in the shoulder. “Ya should paint mine for me.”

Suna is silent for a long moment before replying. “Okay. Pick a color. If ya don’t like any of these, we can go look at neesan’s collection.”

He’s immediately drawn to a bottle of starlight silver, with a faint shimmer coursing through it as it catches the light. _No, it’s too close t’ my hair,_ he decides, setting it back on the floor. “Yer blue is nice.”

“Nah, pick something else. It’d be lame for us to match.” Suna grins sinisterly, waggling his fingers like _haha! I got this color first!_

“Black, then.” Osamu plucks the bottle up, noticing it isn’t plain black. Faint speckles of shiny green and blue shone through. He turns it over in his palm, looking at the label on the bottom. English. “Smoke and Ashes.” He reads, wondering why it needs such a complicated name. It’s just _black_.

Suna nods and pushes the other polish to the side, leaving just two clear polishes and the bottle of shimmery black in front of him. “Scootch over here.”

Osamu obliges, moving so he’s cross-legged in front of Suna, knees brushing. He watches as Suna leans right as far as his long, flexible torso allows him to reach for his discarded math textbook. It’s placed between them — half resting on Suna’s legs and half on Osamu’s. 

“Put your right hand on the book.” Suna murmurs, grabbing one of the clear bottles. He flips it upside down and rolls it between his palms. When he’s finally satisfied, he leans in to examine Osamu’s hands. Osamu can’t help but stare at the two chunks of dark brown hair hanging freely. “Man, your cuticles are a disaster.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

Suna pauses, eyes barely visible through the curtain of bangs. Then, he snaps up, face scrunched up in a laugh. “Of course you don’t.”

He rarely smiles like this. Rarely smiles at all, actually. 

It’s a good look. Flatters him.

“Well, I really don’t wanna try to fix these now.” Suna prods at the base of Osamu’s nails. “But I’ll teach you how to take care of them sometime, okay?”

Osamu nods as Suna cracks open the clear bottle. He gently holds Osamu’s pinky finger in place as he coats it with polish. It’s cold, surprisingly so, the feeling sinking through the keratin and into the nail bed below. “What’s this for?”

Suna works quickly. The one swipe on the tip, then two broad strokes. Fingers brushing over Osamu’s, soft and featherlight. “It’s called a base coat. It protects your nails — some colors stain yellow — and makes it last longer.”

Next he moves on to the black, this time far slower. Brush in bottle. Wipe excess. A tiny blob dabbed onto the nail. Push towards the cuticle. Then drag up to the tip. A swipe left. A swipe right. Seal the tip. Repeat each finger. 

After watching him finish three nails, Osamu shifts his gaze to Suna’s downturned eyes, just a tiny sliver of white and gold-green. They were missing their tell-tale swipe of black eyeliner — the eyeliner Suna constantly claimed was just a natural feature of his fox-like eyes to the adult authority figures in their lives. 

He likes how it looks. Suna looks striking, bearing an air of natural cool no one else could achieve. But what he didn’t like admitting, was how good Suna looked even without it. 

“There.” Suna capped the bottle of black polish and set it with the others. “You gotta let it dry for a minute or two. Then top coat. It’s easy to mess up, so don’t touch anything.”

“Ya have so lil faith in me, Sunarin. When do I ever mess anythin’ up?”

“Remember that project in home ec where we each had to take care of an egg like it was our child?” 

Osamu didn’t like where this story was going.

“Okay, okay. I may have eaten little Yaki, but I got hungry…”

“See, every time you get hungry, you fuck up.” Suna rolls the other bottle of clear polish between his palms.

“I’m hungry.” He bumps his knee forward into Suna’s. “Am I fuckin’ up now?”

Suna stares at him, eyes shifting back and forth between Osamu’s, his lower lip sucked in. He looks back down, cracking open the bottle. “I’d hope not.”

He repeats the ministrations of the base coat with the top coat. Cover the tip. Two swipes. Recaps the bottle. Leans back to admire his handy work.

“Black is definitely your color.” Suna murmurs. “I bet if you let your hair dye grow out, you’d finally get a girlfriend.”

Maybe he didn’t want one.

Osamu raises his hands in front of his face. The black did suit him, made his ‘fucked up’ cuticles and nubby nails look far nicer than they did polishless. Like the small nails were an aesthetic choice and not just a result of not enough hand cream. 

“Havin’ a girlfriend would be borin’.” Osamu grins, bumping Suna with his elbow. “I’d rather hang out with ya.”

Suna’s ears were dusted with the faintest of color, a swipe of shimmery pink polish.

Sometimes he wondered if Suna felt the same way. The glances, the faint blushes, the touches, the late night cuddles. That they meant something other than just being best friends.

“Yeah, me too.”

Though, he supposes just being best friends will do.


	7. shin-osaka station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “Osamu. Hey.” Rintarou’s sad smile shifted into visible heartbreak. “We’ve talked about this. I gotta do what I gotta do, and the same goes for you.”
>> 
>> “Just wish the best for you didn’t mean leavin’ me.” Osamu sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Established Relationship, Post-Timeskip, Bittersweet, Fluff, CW: Weapon Mention (Metaphor)_
> 
> Request from @kitcassia/kitcassiachan

Shin-Osaka station.

Osamu hated it here. Throngs of people rushing to catch their trains. Scents wafting through the concourse and lobby — sweat, perfume and food out of reach. Ugly floor tiles best described as distressed greige bordered by dirtied mustard tactile paving.

Rintarou several feet away from him. Standing in the lobby with a duffel bag hung over his shoulder. One hand clutching the bag’s strap. The other fiddling with the zipper of his track jacket. Weight shifting from foot to foot as he averted his eyes in a way Rintarou never should.

Those green eyes had the tendency to make people feel exposed and naked. Their souls laid bare in front of their judge, jury, and executioner. Secrets wrenched and pried free from their settings.

Osamu never felt the same way. Instead of feeling exposed when Rintarou peeled his layers back, it felt more akin to laying in bed. Naked as the day he was born. Squishy, soft bits on full display. No reason to hide from a gaze filled with nothing but affection.

He had no problem with Rintarou unlocking all of his secrets. As far as he was concerned, everything he was, he is, and he ever will be was Rintarou’s.

“So.” Rintarou spoke, eyes focused on what Osamu presumed was an unassuming greige tile and not anything actually worth staring at. It hurt. Not having those eyes on him.

“So.” He echoed.

“I guess this is it.” The hand on the duffel bag adjusted the strap, a tiny grunt escaping his lips from the effort.

“I guess.” Osamu wanted to end this showdown. To draw his weapon, cock the hammer and pull the trigger. To traverse the distance faster than a bullet. To trail his fingers over familiar cheekbones. To wind his arms tight around ribs. To press his forehead against another.

“We had a good run.” Rintarou said, finally meeting Osamu’s eye. He offered a wistful smile, but Osamu wasn’t interested in accepting it. Not ready. “I’m sad to see it end.”

“Ya don’t gotta leave, ya know?” Osamu took a hesitant step forward — hand hovered over his holster. “Don’t gotta say goodbye.”

“Osamu. Hey.” Rintarou’s sad smile shifted into visible heartbreak. “We’ve talked about this. I gotta do what I gotta do, and the same goes for you.”

“Just wish the best for you didn’t mean leavin’ me.” Osamu sighed.

Rintarou fired first.

A loud slump of a bag hitting the floor. A clatter of shoe soles over greige. A frantic exhale stolen mid-run. A muffled sob into a shoulder.

Bullseye.

A bullet shot straight through Osamu’s heart — embedding into the wall behind.

“I’ll miss you.” Rintarou whispered, pressing the softest of kisses to Osamu’s neck. Lips ghosted over the faint pink and yellow mark he’d made a week ago — now faded into near obscurity. Kisses that no longer said _you are mine_ but rather _you were mine_.

“I’ll miss ya more.” Osamu said. Lips trailed up his neck to hover over his mouth. Affectionate green eyes met his own, crinkled at the corners. “Can ya find it in yer heart to spare me a goodbye kiss?” Fingers met his jaw and tilted it up those last few centimetres of difference.

Rintarou kissed like he played volleyball. Intelligent. Manipulative. Lazy. Pretending he didn’t have a single care in the world. A gentle sweep of waves gliding over the beach. Osamu was content sitting in the shallows until Rintarou’s tide swallowed him whole. 

“I’ve gotta go.” Rintarou pulled away and lugged his duffel bag back over his shoulder. His bullet train would arrive any minute — the universe too eager to steal Rintarou away.

“Kick Tsumu’s ass for me, wouldja?”

Rintarou smiled, both terribly earnest and viciously feral. “Don’t have to ask me twice, babe.”

“Rin. C’mere.”

A final embrace. Arms snaked around waists. Heads leaned on shoulders. Hands traced along familiar backs. Fingers danced with reassurance. I love yous whispered into the void.

“It’s like they always say…” Rintarou’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Osamu said. 

A parting — what must be done. A kiss — pressed to matching silver bands. A smile — what does not need to be said. A wave — a final goodbye.

Rintarou turned and walked down the concourse. Osamu lingered until he could no longer see the MIYA R lettered across his husband’s back.

He was gone. For now.


	8. the baker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > He was struck with something peculiar — the sweet smell of sticky sugar, freshly ground cinnamon and warm pastry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Alternate Universe: Fantasy, First Meetings, Amanai Kanoka_
> 
> Originally a twitfic written for OsaSuna Week 2020. Prompt Home/Food. Edited.

Rintarou’s boots clattered along the cobblestones as he traversed the quiet, narrow streets of Old Town. He was struck with something peculiar — the sweet smell of sticky sugar, freshly ground cinnamon and warm pastry.

A sudden feeling of hunger bit at his gut, as if summoned by the smell alone. Determined to find its origin, Rintarou pulled his hood further over his face and set off once more.

He wandered through the maze of streets, boulevards, and passages until he discovered a narrow alleyway.

And the source: a bakery tucked between two row houses. 

MIYA BROTHERS

BAKERY

The words on the front window were carefully hand-painted in red, accented with gold leaf highlights.

Decadent, for such a tiny shop in an old neighborhood. Rintarou wondered how long it took the owners to save up the silver for it.

He pressed his fingers against the door, a bell chiming as warm sugared air caressed his face.

"Be right there!" A voice from beyond the counter shouted.

Instead of a wide display case full of an assortment of baked goods, there were only several rows of plump cinnamon rolls.

"Sorry." Rintarou found himself face to face with a starlight-haired man with vibrant purple eyes. "Had t'pull these outta the oven." He gestured, raising a tray of rolls with his mitted hand.

"That's okay. Take your time." Rintarou watched him set the tray on the counter, taking the affirmation as permission to keep working. He quickly whisked something up in a bowl, broad shoulders straining his white shirt. His eyes trailed up the man's dark nape to the shock of silver. "I like your hair."

The man flashed him a fleeting smile over his shoulder before returning to work. "Thanks. My brother did it." He poured the icing over the rolls.

"Magic?" 

"Mhm. He does small cosmetic stuff, like changin' hair or addin' freckles." He turned to face Rintarou, his eyes glittering with something unrecognizable. He wondered if the vivid color was his brother's work as well.

"With a power like that… what's he doing owning a bakery?"

The man smiled, crooked. "To be fair, he doesn't do much 'round here, lazy ass. 'M pretty much sole proprietor. Name's Osamu."

"Pleasure." Rintarou nodded. "You can call me Suna."

"Mmm, fake name?" Osamu tilted his head — brows and nose scrunching — before shrugging. "Eh, no judgement here. Nice t'meetcha Suna."

"Ah, you have magic yourself." Rintarou bit at the inside of his cheek

"Of course, though…" Osamu smiled. "It's got nothin' t'do with lies." 

Osamu spun on his heel to produce a small tray of fruit turnovers out of a cabinet behind the counter. "Here, try one."

Rintarou plucked a still-steaming strawberry one from the middle. He breathed in the delicious blend of flaky pastry and jammy fruit, mouth watering. He took a bite, feeling the filling warm his mouth.

_Wait._

"It doesn't taste like anything."

"The food I make never goes bad or cold." Osamu tucked the tray back in the cabinet and smoothed out his burgundy apron. "However, the taste goes away after awhile. Baked those ones last week."

"Interesting. Never heard of that one before." Rintarou stroked at his chin. Magic users were common in the kingdom and those with the most exploitable powers were subservient to nobles. "Would be useful in wartime, certainly."

The crooked smile on Osamu's face dropped into a frown. "Gods forbid."

Rintarou flashed a half-smile, apologetic. "Didn't mean to offend. My… dad's just fascinated by military strategy."

There was a click of Osamu's tongue as he met Rintarou's eye. Did he catch the lie?

Quick to redirect, his gaze shifted to the freshly iced tray. "I'll take one of your rolls. A fresh one." He withdrew his coin purse. "How much are they?"

"Four bronzes…"

In the corner of his vision, he noticed Osamu watching as he fished out four coins. "...though tips are certainly welcome."

Rintarou glanced up to see the man's grin — foxlike with a sharp set of canines and curved eyes.

_Cheeky._

He drew out a silver coin instead, setting it on the smooth wooden counter.

"Thank ya!" Osamu winked, encircling Rintarou's heart with a swirl of warmth. He slid the coin into his palm. "Fresh cinnamon roll, comin' right up!"

Rintarou pulled off his leather gloves, tucking them into his belt. Osamu passed him a roll on a burgundy napkin, the heat seeping through into his bare palms. He gently peeled part of the pastry open and pinched off a long strip.

His taste buds met the flaky pastry before being enveloped by warm cinnamon and finished with the sticky sweet sugar icing.

It tasted like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

The pastry practically melted in his mouth. The cinnamon filling a beautiful marriage of sweet and earthy. And the glaze sugary enough to make his teeth ache.

Satisfaction for the soul, not just satisfaction for the body.

"Incredible." Rintarou whispered. "Are you sure this isn't part of your magic, too?"

"Perhaps…" Osamu regarded him with heavily lidded eyes and a faint smile. He leaned against the counter with practiced ease. "Why don'tcha stop by again?" A spark in violet irises. Hunger. "Ya can give me one of yer secrets 'n' I'll give ya one of mine."

Rintarou's heartbeat fell into a standstill as he smiled. _Yes._ "We'll see."

"Excellent."

Rintarou licked the glaze off his fingertips — a guilty habit he hadn't gotten to indulge in since childhood — before passing the cloth napkin back to Osamu. A tiny brush of fingertips on his skin sent a shiver along his spine.

"Thank you very much." He bowed his head slightly. "I loved it."

"I'm glad." That foxlike smile yet again.

Rintarou slid his gloves back on before he pulled the door open, the bell jingle announcing his departure from the tiny shop.

"See ya 'round…" Osamu called from behind him.

Rintarou turned to flash him a tiny smile before crossing the threshold. A silent _you, too_. As the door swung shut behind him, he heard Osamu speak once more.

"...Prince Rintarou."

Rintarou froze as the door latched shut, heart racing at the speed of sound. There's no way. 

He spun on his heel, ready to throw the door open and confront the strange baker.

He blinked.

Instead of the bakery, he found an empty storefront. Peeling blue letters advertising a now defunct flower shop were painted across the window. Inside, nothing but dusty and cobwebbed shelves.

No sign of Osamu.

No sign the bakery had ever been there.

Just the faintest trace of cinnamon sugar swirling in the breeze and the warmth in his body.

"Your highness!" A voice echoed down the narrow alley. He looked up to see Ser Amanai, smile beaming as bright as her silver armor. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Apologies, Kanoka." Rintarou said, pulling the hood of his cloak down. "I'm afraid I got sidetracked."

"You have to be more careful, your highness."

"Of course." Rintarou patted his old friend on the shoulder, flashing her a gentle smile. "I'd say it won't happen again but…"

"Rintarou!" Kanoka giggled, all pretenses of formality melting away into the girl he grew up with. "Behave."

"Fine, fine." He surrendered with a grin.

He stole a final glance at the abandoned storefront, as if it would manifest into the Miya Brothers Bakery again.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'll see you around, Miya Osamu."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Art](https://twitter.com/andraste_/status/1274577939523395584/photo/1) for this mini-story

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading~!
> 
> twitter [@andraste_](https://twitter.com/andraste_/status/1295044596381052929)


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